So Very Proud
by ilovemark
Summary: Very few really know what happened that night—the night Lord Voldemort fell. Really, the only people who knew exactly how it happened were Harry Potter’s best friends. And some of them don’t fully understand.


_**Author's Note/ Disclaimer:** I got this idea while re-reading_Half-Blood Prince. _Somehow, it seemed like I had to write it and I don't really know why. Obviously, the characters belong to JK Rowling (who is brilliant). The rest is mainly theories of mine, though some theories I don't actually support whole-heartedly. But that's besides the point. Enjoy and review, please.

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**_So Very Proud_**

"Very few really know what happened that night—the night Lord Voldemort fell. The _Daily Prophet_ reported the story to the best of its ability, but there were some gaping holes. Really, the only people who knew exactly how it happened were Harry Potter's best friends. And some of them don't fully understand.

"Harry showed more courage that night than anyone could have expected. He faced his lifelong enemy with more than rage in his heart. There was an overwhelming sense that Harry pitied Voldemort—and while he could never truly forgive Voldemort for the horrors that he had inflicted on Harry and his loved ones, Harry showed mercy, which was more than anyone could ever expect.

"He had worked hard to reach that night. He had spent one long, excruciating year hunting Voldemort's horcurxes one by one until he had finally destroyed five. In his second year at Hogwarts, he had destroyed Riddle's diary and closed the Chamber of Secrets forever. In the summer of his seventh year, after the death of Headmaster Dumbledore, the greatest wizard Harry had ever known, Harry realized the Slytherin's locket was located in number 12 Grimmauld Place, and he found a way to open it and overcome the horcrux with magic and skill that even Hermione had never seen before. Then Harry began on the journey to find the other fragments of Voldemort's soul. He encountered obstacle after obstacle and faced more fears and terrors than he ever had before in his already troubled life. But, in time, he found Helga Hufflepuff's goblet, destroyed Godric Gryffindor's sorting hat, and killed Nagini.

"Finally, Harry knew that it was time. For some reason, Harry demanded that Neville Longbottom come with him to face Voldemort, though no one really recognized why until after the fact.

"Harry met Voldemort, face to face, for the first time in three years. There was resent, anger, and a few Unforgivable Curses flung about that night, but nothing fazed Harry. He was stronger than that. He had already tackled so much pain in his young life that the hurt of an Unforgivable Curse didn't do him much damage anymore. He had already watched his godfather die, and seen Dumbledore die at the hand of a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

"And now is when the facts get hazy, for who could ever really come to appreciate the sacrifice that Harry Potter made that night? He knew there was more backing this battle for goodness than winning the right to live a peaceful life. For how could the Chosen One ever have a life of peace?

"Harry saw the signs within himself over the course of his hunt for horcruxes—saw for the first time just how similar he and Voldemort really were. How they were _too_ similar. They shared so many characteristics that it was almost impossible. He realized that the sixth horcrux for which he had been searching for resided within himself. It all made sense: the parseltongue, the snapshots into Voldemort's thoughts and emotions—and hadn't Dumbledore himself said that Voldemort had put something of himself in Harry the night Harry's parents were murdered? Harry knew what he had to do.

"So after Harry showed mercy to Voldemort—showed him that love really is the most powerful magic untapped by wizardkind, Harry killed himself. He… he died, leaving Neville Longbottom to finish off the final seventh of Voldemort's decaying soul. He took Dumbledore's teachings to heart—that there were worse things than death and physical pain—worse things, like Voldemort being allowed to live on and continue killing innocent people.

"Harry Potter was one of the most passionate and caring people I ever knew. He knew his purpose in life, and he undertook a responsibility on his shoulders that no one ever understood but him. He was more than my best friend—he was the Boy Who Lived… he was the Boy Who Died. Died to save us all. And, Harry, Dumbledore would have been so proud," Ron Weasley breathed, looking down into Harry's open coffin.

For the first time in all of Ron's years of knowing Harry, Harry's pallid face was calm and serene. Ron felt an upsurge of emotion, looking down at his best friend's cold, dead body. Tears began to slide down his cheeks, and Hermione took his hand and gave it a small, supportive squeeze. Ron looked back up at the faceless thousands who had gathered for Harry's burial.

"Words can't even express how glad I was to have met you on the Hogwarts Express on our first day of school," Ron murmured. "You changed my life that day, Harry. Made me realize what true friendship really is. Helped me to see how there are things worth dying for in this world—gave me hope that purity would prevail again. Because, Harry, you were the most pure-hearted person I ever knew… my best friend. I'm so grateful, Harry. And Harry, I'm… I'm proud of you too. So very, very proud."


End file.
